A Lone Wolf
by UselessDrivel719
Summary: An angsty fic about Sirius mourning the loss of his Remus. Enjoy!


**I had taken this down, but, after further consideration, decided to post it again. I hope you enjoy!**

I look at the full moon, tilting my head back to let the wind fan my hair around my face. I breathe in the crisp scent of the late night air, and take relief in the thought that I am completely solitary. This moment in the grand scheme of things is mine and mine alone, without the intrusive, pitying gazes. His face soon appears in my mind, as it inevitably does when I let my mind run free. Usually, I try to stop the pain that accompanies this type of reminiscing, but tonight of all nights, I can't resist the temptation. I take a deep breath and let myself remember.

He was always the only one who could make me smile. Not my usual shit-eating grin, or smirk, or half-smile, but a full out smile that hurt my cheeks and crinkled my eyes, but I didn't care because he always smiled back. When he smiled, his eyes seemed to widen in surprise at the feel of such an unfamiliar sensation, since he had never before had a reason to smile. Then, he would cock his head to the side for a moment, and let the hints of a smile tugging at his lips break into a wide grin, highlighting the white lines of the scars on his face and revealing his adorably chipped front tooth which he usually hid from the prying eyes of the world at all costs. To me, it was a perfect smile, no matter how clichéd it may sound; the kind of smile that made my palms sweaty and my heart race and my smile widen even more, making me sure my face would be sore for days to come. It never stopped me though; I was never one to care about what I should and shouldn't do.

He loved chocolate. He never cared for any other dessert but something chocolate. He would rejoice at the first mouthful, the tip of his tongue darting out from between his lips to catch any escaping crumbs of his much-adored prize. His bed was always littered with discarded chocolate bar wrappings, even though I cleaned them every night before bed. They just seemed to magically accumulate! Chocolate was the only thing that could make him feel slightly less like crap after another agonizingly long and arduous full moon. Forget the dozens of potions and spells I spent all of my free time learning, a deluxe bar of Honeyduke's chocolate was a guaranteed remedy to all aches and pains. I surprised him with little treats whenever I had a chance to stop by Hogsmeade, relishing the tight embrace and sloppy kiss I was rewarded at the sight of a poorly-wrapped chocolate box on his bed. I loved how easy he was to please, so unlike what I had grown up with, where only the price tag mattered. No, he just cared about whether it contained his favorite ingredient.

He was always selfless. Even as he lay bleeding from various injuries, he always struggled to remain conscious long enough to check whether I had been hurt while taking care of him under the cold light of the full moon. When he dueled, this became both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because his need to protect others fueled him and motivated him to keep fighting, no matter how weary he became, always continuing to fight until the battle was over, his silhouette illuminated by the green light of curses around him. A curse because he often completely disregarded his own safety in the middle of battle, needing to make sure I was fine, often trying to fight mine and his own fight simultaneously. It was this that eventually led to me being out here alone, instead of watching over him.

He was passionate. I loved his passion about life, love, knowledge, truth, liberty, morality, and all of his principles. When he was in the middle of one of his speeches, trying to motivate other students to join the Order and fight against Voldemort, his face would become flushed as he gesticulated wildly, his eyes sparkling as his mind concocted beautiful words that sounded like poetry in his mellifluous voice, convincing any listener immediately, more effective than any Imperious curse. As he became even more caught up in his words, flecks of hair would fall into his face and he would practically shake from the force of the passion bursting through him in his very words. His voice always remained determined and firm, loudly arguing his opinions with precision and flawlessness, a slight smile appearing on his face as he saw his point being driven and his opponent's defense weakening, carried along by the high of his adrenaline. When he came down from his high of invincibility, and the listeners had left, and it was just the two of us alone once more, he would let the cracks show, the strain of using so much energy, of always giving so much passion and feeding off of the crowd's passion as well. I was always there to support him as he made his shaky way back to our common room, encouraging him and praising him as he continued speaking of his passions while I listened in rapture.

I let a sob escape me, and I buried my fingers in my raven locks. I knew I would pay for my moment of indulgence, I just didn't expect it to be as raw as the very first time. Wasn't time supposed to heal all wounds, or some similar nonsense? I suppose I always knew it would be just as bad, but then again, how could it not be? I am, after all, standing by his grave on the eve of the anniversary of his first year of death on a night of a full moon, no less. Everything is always a recall for the memories; seeing the full moon, his favorite type of chocolate, hearing his favorite record drifting out of a nearby store, seeing something that would have made him laugh. I was never able to sell our flat, but I haven't brought myself to actually go there since _it_ happened. Instead, I live in a cheap apartment far away from everything I used to know.

By now, I have collapsed to my knees and with a quiet whimper, I seek solace in Padfoot, yearning to escape the overwhelming emotions of a human. As I feel the familiar change take place into my familiar canine self, I lift my muzzle to the moon and let out a long, mournful howl, calling futilely for my lost partner.

**Well, I hope you liked it! Please review!**

**-AnonymousWriter719**


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